


Shattered Thoughts

by FanRulerJynx



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No beta we kayak like Tim, small amount of blood, title is much more impressive then the fic is, total projection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26784898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanRulerJynx/pseuds/FanRulerJynx
Summary: It all started with the crashing of a mug.--Basically, I project onto Jon and he gets the love and care he deserves for it.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 11
Kudos: 112





	Shattered Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry if this is messy I just had this idea pop into my head and couldn't get away from it. I hope you all like it! <3

It all started with the crashing of a mug. 

Well, that’s not true. This is something that has been build up for years. No certain ‘starting point’ just a series of life experiences that get repressed, teased, tossed about, and then promptly ignored.

So, it would be more accurate to say that the mug was what started what some may call healing.

“Jon? Are you okay?” He heard the crashing from the kitchen. In the small safehouse it’s hard to not hear anything that happens but this sound was one that screamed for attention. Or maybe it was the oppressing silence afterwards that drew him towards the room.

Normally, when something breaks that person who broke it would call out altering those around them that everything was okay. So, for Martin to not hear anything, and not hear anything after he called out to his partner showed that things seem to be deep in the not-okay category.

When he rounded the corner and walked through the doorframe, he saw Jon. Martin knows that he had been struggling, trying to balance his feeding of statements, trying to learn the boundaries of Knowing, and overall just figuring how to be the almost human that he is.

So, to see him, kneeling on the floor, gently picking up pieces of a mug, one that was filled with tea if the steam raising and orange liquid spilled out was clues.

The sight of red though, that was not okay.

“Jon! Your hand! Hold on, stop picking up the glass, it’s fine I’ll get—”

“No! Stop, it’s not fine and we both know it!”

“…Jon?” He walked around the kneeling man and leaned down to his level. As he reached up to push the falling stray hairs from his face, Jon lurched backwards as if burned. Again.

“Jon, you have to talk to me. What is going on. I’m not a mind reader, I leave that to you.” He said this last part with a small smile hoping to encourage the dark-skinned man into a similar smile. This, sadly, did not seem to work and actually had an opposite effect.

Jon leaned back, now sat in a defeated posture against the lower kitchen cabinets. He raised his slowly bleeding hand to his face, then raised his eyes to Martin’s. He could only hold them there for a moment before he dropped his gaze and curled into a ball.

“I can’t do anything right Martin. I just wanted to make you tea, and it just, I just-I can’t even do that right! It was your, your favourite mug too! And I shattered it! Just, it’s gone now and never coming back and I can’t even fix a stupid thing like this—”

He cut himself off, not able to continue talking through his intensive heaving breaths. He was going to have a panic attack Martin thought quickly.

“Okay, okay Jon, can I touch you? Please?”

Jon raised his head, tears slowly falling down his checks and sharply nodded.

“Okay, good. Now just, breathe with me, in, out, in, out,” He accompanied this with raising Jon’s non-bleeding hand to his own chest so he could easily follow along.

Some time passed. Jon’s hand stopped bleeding. He stopped crying. Martin did start to get red eyes at watching Jon suffer so much. Finally, he reached his hand around and held onto the others.

“Are you back with me?”

“…yes. I-I’m sorry. I’m fi—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence Jonathan Sims.”

“…” Good. He hated using That Tone, but sometimes it was the only way to get him to stop listening to his brain and listen to those around him instead.

“Okay, let’s start from step one. Are you hurt? Like, does your hand need help right now?”

A shaking of his head.

“Good, we will take care of that in a minute then. Next, the mug? It. Is. Fine. No,” He raised his head up when Jon opened his mouth to interject.

“If it is my mug then don’t I get to decide if it is fine or not? Is that fair?”

Nod.

“Jon, can you talk? It’s okay if you can’t I just need to know where you are at right now.”

A minute passed, Two. Martin was patient as Jon was working his way to getting his voice back. He started humming a random tune, knowing that even if Jon could speak he would be terrified of breaking such quite silence. He smiled at Jon when he saw his head perk up at the noises.

“…I can talk. But I need—I, will you ask me? I don’t, I can’t lie to you but I can’t just talk.”

“I hope you find the irony in that, love.” Judging by the small smile of his face, Jon did in fact see the irony.

“Jon. Is this mainly about the literal mug or mainly about something else?” He was trying to start easy and work their way to the source topic. 

“It’s the mug—well at least, I think it is…no, that’s not right. I’m upset about the mug though. But no, it’s not about that.”

“Okay. Is it about me then? How I would react to this, or something like this?” And going by the tight press of his lips and the act of turning his face away from Martin it seems like he hit the head on the mark.

“What are you thinking?” He gently nudged his chin back so they were eye-to-eye. Then the dam broke.

“That this was the final straw. I finally messed it all up. You have put up with so much from me. At literally every point of us knowing each other. And all I do is put you down, drag you into dangerous places. Fuck! I made you flee from your country and have to live with a creature because it’s not as though you had any choice! You listen to me literally eat people’s worst nightmares to stay alive and I can’t even make you a cup of tea in your favourite mug without fucking up on that too.”

He was close to crying again. Admittedly, Martin was now too.

“One at a time here, okay. First. I’m honestly offended that you think I ‘put up’ with anything. Honestly with how much shit has happened in these years I feel like I am pretty good at getting rid of things that I don’t enjoy. And surprise! I’m still here with you. Looking at cows, sleeping with you, putting up with your awful taste in films.” This brought a small smile to his face which Martin counted as a win.

“And yes, you were a prick when you first knew each other, and yes even later on I do remember Jon, I was there.” He added when Jon, once more, opened his mouth to interrupt. He clicked it shut with a force that made Martin wince.

“But you already apologized for that. There is nothing there to linger on negatively. I swear. Yes, we did flee the country. But you did not have to take me with you. I was still under the Lonely that when you brought me out, I actually thought you were going to send me to my flat then leave.”

At this, Jon snapped his full focus back to him. He had not heard or even Knew about this fact before.

“Martin…I would have never. I, honestly if you said no to this safehouse I was just planning on following you. Until you told me to piss off. And then, I’m not even sure what I was going to do after that.”

“I now know that, honest. But I was in a very different place back then. So please, Jon, know that I would never feel that you are—are weighing me down or something. Because wherever you go, I will follow you. Feel free to Know that if you have to. We are staying together.”

Jon nodded his head. He didn’t reach out to the Eye. He was learning how to live without that. Slowly, but he was trying.

Martin then rose up. He reached down and easily scooped up his partner and walked them to the bathroom. Jon pretended to be embarrassed but they both knew he loved to be carried. To have someone willingly take the burden that is his body.

He gently set the skinny man down on the toilet seat and started working on his palm.

“So, what else is there to talk about.” He didn’t phrase it as a question and could feel Jon tense up under him at this.

“Yep, this conversation is not over but my knees were getting sore on the ground so here we are. What do you want to ask me?” 

At his almost scared face he changed his phrasing. “I meant, ask not Ask. Hmm, we really need to come up with a better word for that. But do you understand?” He started applying antiseptic cream.

“Yes, I understand. I just, I just don’t know why you stay. We both know that I have no idea what I am doing. In this, this relationship and here in Scotland, and just, trying to live! I am falling clueless when I will land or what I’ll do to slow the fall. But you stay. Why?”

“Hmm, well I suppose that skydiving does not seem as bad when your jumping with the person you love.”

They both stared at each other then wrinkled their noses. 

“Yeah, that was a bad analogy sorry. But you know what I mean. I’m here because I love you Jon. I could ask why you stay with me. Everyone I’ve been with has broken up with me with some vague excuses but I know its because they thought I was too emotional and overbearing and stuff. I dunno, they never really told me but I wonder how I got lucky enough to land someone like you.”

He finished wrapping his hand up. Martin stood up and offered his hand. Jon took it.

They walked back to the kitchen, slowly cleaning up the now cold spilt tea. Martin put the pieces of his mug together and tossed them into the trash without looking back.

Jon’s eye’s watered at this and he looked away. Martin took the damp rag from his hands and placed it in the sink. He returned to Jon’ side, he would always return to his side, and gently raised his head to a soft kiss. He tugged him back to walking.

They walked slowly to the bedroom and laid down, curled into each other. Gentle touches were passed and soft words were spoken.

They kept talking. To each other, about each other, for each other.

But at this point, the tape recorded quietly clicked off. 

Anything else spoken was only for their ears.


End file.
